Paper Stars
by Greek-Whovian
Summary: Transcendence AU oneshot. Michaela learns to make paper stars from a man in her dream. Based on the comic by strangelykatie. (Cover image is not mine).


**The comic is at bipbop - dipdop dot tumblr dot com / tagged / ****ahhhhhhhhhh (without the spaces)**

Michaela Pendelton, known as Mickey to all those closest to her, sat alone on her bed, staring out the window. She felt lonely and sad tonight, as she did most of the time.

She hadn't been called Mickey in a long time.

Michaela was ten years old. She had shoulder-length brown hair, fair skin, brown eyes, and a splash of freckles across her nose. She had given up trying to keep her hair tame long ago, and now it sat a tangled, frizzy mess upon her head.

She lived in the United States, Texas to be exact, in a little home on a small piece of land with only her mother to support her. Her little brother James had died of cancer years ago, and her father had run off, unable to cope with the loss of his only son.

Money was tight in the Pendelton household. Much of it had gone to pay James' medical bills, and now that Michaela didn't have a father there, her mother was the only one making money. Every once in a while Michaela would get a pet sitting job- watching cats or dogs or some animal of the sort- and the small amount of money she made went straight into the jar of food money.

She laid down on her bed, not bothering to pull the covers over herself. She clutched her old stuffed animal that James had given her before he died closer to her chest. It was a little giraffe that James had simply named Mr. Giraffe. He had given it to her the week before he died, saying "I want you to take care of Mr. Giraffe when I'm gone."

A tear had dripped down Michaela's face as she stroked her brother's hair. "I promise that I'll take very good care of him."

James reached up and wiped her tears away. "I know you will."

He had been far too mature for a six year old. He had been through too much.

Michaela shut her eyes, trying to shut off the thoughts of her little brother.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

And she dreamed. She dreamed of a man, a man with brown, curly hair and brown eyes. Just like herself, she supposed. He wore a suit with a gold bow tie and a top hat. His eyes were as black as the night with gold pupils in the center. His ears were pointed and his teeth sharp.

Michaela thought he was beautiful.

She reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder. He jumped and turned around to face her. _I must look horrible._ She thought. And, in fact, she didn't look her best. She wore an old night gown with a hole in it, her hair was a mess, and in her hand was Mr. Giraffe._  
><em>

The man looked at her for a long moment before smiling. It was a soft smile. "You look fine, don't worry."

Michaela didn't say anything.

He knelt down to her level and studied her face before cocking his head to the side. "You're sad. Why?"

With a shaking hand Michaela held out Mr. Giraffe. The man took it. "You're sad about this stuffed animal?"

She shook her head.

"Then why are you sad?"

A tear dripped down her already-wet face. "I-it was my b-brother's. H-he died of c-cancer two y-years ago."

The man wiped her tear away, much like her brother had done all those years ago, and she began to cry. "A-and I'm alone and I don't have any friends," she couldn't stop herself from speaking now. Words were just pouring out of her mouth, "and my mom can barely support me and she's always working late and my father ran away and-,"

"Sh." Said the man. He pulled Michaela into a hug. He stroked her hair gently as she cried into his suit jacket.

After a few minutes Michaela pulled away. "I think I have something to help you." The man said.

He snapped his fingers and in his gloved hand appeared a strip of glowing gold paper. He came to sit next to her and showed her how to make paper stars. Michaela watched in silence, completely captivated by the gentle movements of his hands. His clawed fingers didn't bother her at all. In fact, it almost made his movements seem _more _graceful.

Finally it was finished, and he held out a jar (from where he got it, Michaela would never know). He dropped the star in. "When you make one thousand of these stars, your greatest wish will come true."

Michaela woke up that morning, feeling happier than she had ever felt before.

She shot up out of her bed and ran over to her desk. With trembling hands she cut a piece of dark blue paper into strips. She took the first strip and made it into a paper star. It was a little sloppy, but it was the best she could do. Michaela dumped out a glass jar that held her pencils and dropped the little star in.

She didn't exactly believe in wishes,despite her world being filled with the supernatural (which, now that the Transcendence had happened two hundred years ago, wasn't really all that "super" and was just "natural").

She smiled at the star that rested in the bottom of the jar. _Nine hundred ninety-nine more to go._

For the years to come Michaela made those stars whenever she felt sad or lonely. She didn't know why it helped, but it did.

When she was ten and bullies pushed her around on the playground, she made them.

When she was eleven and no one would eat lunch with her, she made them.

When she was twelve and she didn't want to come to class because all the other students were smarter than her, she made them.

When she was thirteen and people ignored her when she tried to talk to them, she made them

When she was fourteen and the depression finally settled on her, she made them.

When she was fifteen and she had no contacts in her phone and no one ever called her, she made them.

And finally, on her sixteenth birthday, when she walked into her room to find that her mother had left her a cupcake with an un-lit candle and a note that read 'happy birthday, sweetie. Working late, be home at 11.  
>-mom' she made them. She dropped a paper star into the jar on her desk- the jar that she had filled with stars for six years- and went to make another one. But there was no paper left in her room, or anywhere in the house for that matter.<p>

Michaela cried. She had nine hundred ninety-nine stars in the jar. She was so close and it _just wasn't fair._ She clutched the jar to her chest and cried. She picked up Mr. Giraffe and cried some more.

There was a flash of light, and Michaela looked down at the stuffed giraffe in her hands. On it's head rested a glowing-gold paper star. It looked a little old, like it had been made years ago, but it was unmistakably a paper star.

And not just _a_ paper star. It was the paper star that the man had made for her in her dream all those years ago. She picked it up and stared at it.

_Impossible, _said Michaela's head.

_Not so, _said her heart.

She rushed out of her room and out the front door to stand on the porch of her little ranch home. The sky was dark and filled with stars, and the moon was a little crescent. Michaela held up the jar, and nothing happened. She began to cry again, the jar clutched to her chest and Mr. Giraffe in her hand.

Suddenly a star in the sky began to fall. Down it flew, getting closer and closer to Michaela, until suddenly the man from her dream was standing there.

He was unchanged. His dark eyes, pointed teeth and ears, suit, and hat were all the same. His hair was still curly, his smile still kind despite the creepy shark-teeth. "I see you've made one thousand stars."

Michaela, wide eyed and slack-jawed, could only nod. He smiled "And I am here to grant your wish."

Michaela looked down at the jar. "You're Alcor the Dreambender, aren't you?" Now that she got a good, up-close look at him for the first time in years, she could tell. He looked so much like the pictures in her Demonology text book.

The man- Alcor- smiled again. "You are a clever one."

Michaela let out a small sigh. "I should have known. Don't you need a deal to grant my wish?"

Alcor looked down at her, still smiling softly. "Yes, I do require a deal. But you see, I told you to make these stars six years ago, and each one is filled with memories. Just one of these stars," -and at this he reached into the jar and plucked up the golden one that sat on the top- "this one for instance, is enough to get you your wish."

He held out a gloved hand. "Come with me and you can leave behind the life that makes you so unhappy. You wish for a life where you are no longer alone, or sad, or invisible. Is that not so?"

Michaela stood still for a few moments, still looking at the star in his hand, before slowly looking up to meet his eyes. She shook her head. "I don't want to run away from my problems, and I don't need a white night- or a demon in your case- to come rescue me."

She held out her hand. "I won't give you my true name, but you can call me Mickey."

Alcor studied her hand before taking it. His grip was firm but friendly. She pulled him forward and wrapped her arms around him. Yes he was a demon, but he had been kind to her, and she needed to return the favor. After a few tense seconds, he lifted his arms and hugged her back.

"And all I've ever wished for was a friend."


End file.
